After the Trauma of Love, I Found My Healing

I didn't immediately propose a divorce.

That night, my son Gabe and I continued to celebrate Arianna's birthday.

She tried hard to conceal her feelings, pretending to be open and sincere, but was still absent-minded.

After all, her teenage crush had reappeared in her life, still charming and even more mature, leaving a significant impact on her.

We booked a twin room, but at night she insisted on sleeping with our son, claiming it was because I'm a light sleeper and she didn't want to disturb me by turning over.

In my two lifetimes, this was the first time I learned I was a light sleeper.

I smiled faintly, tacitly agreeing.

Her early vow of chastity for her 'god' matched her infatuated behavior from our previous life.

I closed my eyes on the other bed, but internally I was in turmoil, with the various resentments and bitterness from our past life surfacing.

I didn't know how much time had passed when I heard very light footsteps.

In the darkness, Arianna quietly opened the door, slipped out, and disappeared.

She didn't return until five in the morning, carrying the scent of an adult.

Back in the city, Arianna made the usual excuse of having to work at the hospital.

After dropping off our son at his activity class, instead of waiting outside as usual, I quickly went to a law firm.

The next day, I sought out my old boss at General Hospital.

Learning that I wanted to return to work, my old boss shook his head, "General Hospital is the best in the city. You can't just come and go as you please. Despite your PhD, you've been out of practice for seven years, and no hospital would dare let you operate again."

Seven years ago, when Arianna gave birth to our son Gabe, neither of our parents were fit to help, and several nanny abuse scandals had just surfaced. After discussing it with Arianna, I decided to quit my job and became a rare full-time dad.

At that time, I was already a chief neurosurgeon. My old boss advised me against quitting, saying that if I could overcome the current difficulties, my career prospects would be bright.

But back then, I thought it was much harder for a woman to return to the workforce than for a man. If someone had to quit, it had to be me.

Besides, Arianna's job wasn't easy either.

We just had different roles.

But in the end, I only moved myself.

After my persistent requests, my old boss finally informed me, "Next month, there's a public recruitment for a radiologist position in a county hospital. If you are interested, you should prepare for it."

I knew this county was over 200 kilometers from the city, with no high-speed rail, only long-distance buses, taking over ten hours round trip.

Additionally, the pay in the county was low, and radiology was far from my previous specialty.

But now, I had no room to be picky.

I had to grasp any lifeline at hand; I needed a job to fight for my son's custody.

After registering, I devoted myself entirely to exam preparation.

When I first started at the hospital, I rotated through the radiology department. This knowledge wasn't difficult.

But being away from the field for seven years, both medical theory and technology had evolved significantly, making my once-familiar skills obsolete.

Besides studying theoretical knowledge, I frequently reached out to old classmates to help me understand the latest radiology equipment in various hospitals.

Knowing I was applying for a radiology position in a district, my classmates nodded with awkward smiles. "Good, good."

But their faces showed mixed reactions—surprise, doubt, and even schadenfreude.

Once a top student who became a chief surgeon at General Hospital shortly after graduation, I was the envy of everyone.

Now, I couldn't even get a radiology job.

Seeing me so busy, my son curiously asked, "Dad, are you preparing to go back to school?"

I patted his head.

No, I was preparing for a war.

In this war, my son, Arianna, and her 'idol' Noah would all be involved.